


More Than Just A Doll

by kiwiqueen



Series: NSFW danganronpa one-shots [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Komaeda Nagito, Cunnilingus, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Has An Ultimate Talent (Dangan Ronpa), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28113225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiqueen/pseuds/kiwiqueen
Summary: His face went an almost-cartoonish shade of pink.  “You would really invite someone like me into your house?  I could just die.”  You pulled him inside by the collar of his jacket and shut the door behind him.  He stood stiffly near your table where the doll was lying face-down, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve.  A moment passed in discomfited silence before he spoke again.  “It looks amazing.  Just what I would expect from the Ultimate Doll Maker.”
Relationships: Komaeda Nagito/Reader
Series: NSFW danganronpa one-shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187303
Comments: 1
Kudos: 89





	More Than Just A Doll

You flung the paintbrush to the ground. Acrylic paint splattered across the floor, but it was hard to get yourself to care. This wasn’t your real studio, and with any amount of luck at all you would be out of here before it could matter. You slammed the doll in your other hand onto the worktable.

As an artist, you weren’t generally much for violence, but you buried your fist into the wall before screaming into a pillow at the top of your lungs.

A slight tinge of regret washed over you at the dent you had put in the wall, not to mention the splitting skin of your knuckles, but it was, once again, hard to really care. You rubbed at your aching knuckles, praying that none of them were broken, and let yourself collapse onto the bed. Despite it all, the bed was the perfect level of softness, and you let yourself sink into it.

There came a hesitant knock at the door. You groaned loudly and dragged yourself up to answer it.

“What the fuck do you want?”

In the doorway was Nagito Komaeda. He ran a pale hand through his paler hair and stammered out, “Uh, I heard a scream, and I thought I should make sure you were okay.”

The sound-resistant walls of the cottages meant that he would likely have had to be very close to your door to hear, but you didn’t feel like pressing that matter.

“Everything is fine.”

“Ah, right. I mean,” he continued, “I would hate to impose on an Ultimate like you, but I just wanted to make sure you-”

You cut him off. “Did you want to come in?” He clearly did not intend to stop talking.

His face went an almost-cartoonish shade of pink. “You would really invite someone like me into your house? I could just die.” You pulled him inside by the collar of his jacket and shut the door behind him. He stood stiffly near your table where the doll was lying face-down, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. A moment passed in discomfited silence before he spoke again. “It looks amazing. Just what I would expect from the Ultimate Doll Maker.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “You and everyone else.” You crossed the room to sit back on your bed.

His big eyes filled with a look of horror. “What do you mean?”

You laid back. “I don’t know, I guess. . . it’s the only thing I’m any good at, so it’s gotta be perfect.”

“No, that’s not it,” he insisted. “It’s perfect because you’re an Ultimate. Because it’s imbued with your hope.”

“Right,” you tried to fill the words with every bit of sarcasm you could muster, “my hope.”

He seemed to ignore it entirely. “Exactly. The hope that chose you from birth.”

You closed your eyes. “Yeah, because it’s not like I ever got to choose.”

“That’s true,” he conceded. “No one gets to choose. Some are chosen by hope, and the rest of us are not.”

You nodded. “Even you only care about me because I’m an Ultimate. You don’t actually care what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” You opened your eyes and sat up, and Nagito was sitting on the bed next to you. There was a look on his face that you hadn’t seen before. It was as though he was desiring something selfishly for the first time since you met him. “It’s hard to. . .”

“You don’t have to tell me. Obviously, I could never force an Ultimate like you to do anything.”

In that moment, the realization hit like a freight train that what you wanted was right next to you. Still, you didn’t have the words to say it. “My dolls are. . . I’m in. . .” you tried a few sentence fragments, but none of them were the right ones. Nagito nodded, eyes half-closed, as though he understood you. “Maybe it would be easier if I could just show you.”

Another nod, and his eyes fell the rest of the way closed.

You laced a hand into the mess of his hair and kissed him. Chaste and simple at first, but as he grew accustomed to the contact, you traced the tip of your tongue across his lips and persuaded them to part. You eased your tongue into his mouth and drank in the taste of him. If you weren’t otherwise occupied, you might have murmured something like, “Good boy,” into his ear, though you supposed he hadn’t yet done anything especially deserving of praise. Your free hand tugged off his jacket and tossed it to the floor.

His eyes reopened when you drew back. “You can stop me at any time,” you reassured him, and he nodded again, faster this time.

Your lips returned to his, your tongue to his mouth, and you ran your hands up and down his arms. They were even skinner under that loose jacket than you had imagined, bordering on fragile. Finally, you braced your hands against his hips and nudged him to face away from you. You trailed light kisses along his collarbone and onto the back of his neck as he turned.

At this point, you were committed. You discarded his shirt, then removed your own clothes as he took the initiative to take off the rest of his.

It was, perhaps, a cliche for a doll maker, but his skin was as white and flawless as fine china. You admired it as your hands and lips traced their way down his back. His lean figure trembled.

With a gentle squeeze, you cupped his ass in your hands. “Is that alright?” He nodded in response. You ventured a pinch. “And that?” The same reply. Then a light slap. “How about that?” He moaned low in his throat. “Nagito, I need you to tell me if that’s okay or not,” you caressed his ivory hair.

“Yes,” he choked out.

“I’ll be right back,” you stroked the area between his shoulder blades before rising from your position leaning over him. He made a small noise of protest, but he didn’t dare to object.

The air in the bathroom was frigid on your bare skin, but you needed something from there. You grabbed it from the side of the sink, a small container of coconut oil taken from the kitchen. It made a good moisturizer, or so Mikan had told you, and the island air had been hell on your skin.

The lid was already off by the time you returned. You scooped a little onto your fingers, and it started to melt, dripping down your hands just from your body heat. His skin was a pale pink where you had hit it before. You rested the slick hand against his lower back.

“Remember, I’ll stop immediately if you ask me to.”

“I know.” His voice sounded half-choked and desperate.

You started with your pinky. You pressed it inside of him, slowly, gently, savoring the sound he made as you did so. Once it was in all the way, you gave a few experimental pumps. Nagito’s body shook. You could feel your own arousal building as well.

Satisfied, you pulled out your pinky and switched to your index finger. He cried out in muffled pleasure. A few more movements of your hands, and you were worried you were going to far, but–

“Please, keep going m-mistress,” with the combination of his begging and the unprompted honorific, you had to keep going. You slowly added a second finger, thrusting them tenderly until you hit a spot inside him that made him shudder harder than before. You kept going, building speed and pressure while Nagito raved with pleasure. His voice, husky with desire, was almost musical. His gratified convulsing intensified until he spilled himself onto the covers. You pulled your fingers out.

“Sorry.” It wasn’t the first thing you would have expected him to say upon turning to face you again, but with Nagito’s constant self-deprecation, it wasn’t entirely surprising. “You went to all the effort to make me feel good, and I haven’t done anything for you. I’m really the worst. I feel like I should make it up to you.”

You laid back down and smiled slyly in response. “What did you have in mind?”

He stared up at you from the foot of the bed through silvery eyelashes. It might’ve looked innocent, if you hadn’t just seen him melting under your touch just moments before. He made a move towards you, hesitating just long enough that you could’ve forced him to stop, if you had wanted to.

His eyelashes fell against his porcelain cheeks as he licked a stripe up the inside of your bare thigh. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. His tongue moved between your legs, the warmth of his breath an intense pleasure. He lapped desperately at you, plunging his tongue inside of you and circling around your nerves as if to taste every exposed bit of you. The sensation built up with every stroke of his tongue until it suddenly snapped, releasing all the tension from your body.

You let yourself go limp, breathing heavily in a quiet moment.

Nagito stood shakily and fumbled for his clothes. “You probably want me to go now.”

“Wait,” you raised a hand as though to grab him by the wrist, not that he was close enough for you to do so. “I think you should stay.” He lowered himself back onto the bed and moved timidly closer to you. You took him in your arms, breasts pressing against his slender back, and drew the sullied blankets over the both of you.

“I’ll help you kill me if you’d like,” he said. “Your hope is so beautiful, I would do anything to help it shine brighter.”

You tightened your arms around his waist. “I don’t want to kill you. My hope will only be dimmer without you around.”

That seemed to stun him into silence. Stillness fell around you. The two of you laid there, not sleeping, but peaceful, with despair far away from your minds.

**Author's Note:**

> Before you say anything, the meme hit me about halfway through writing. I would apologize, but I'm not sorry
> 
> (And actually, everyone leave comments anyway, it's good for my motivation to keep writing)


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